


Defining Characteristics

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder, DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he's younger, Aoba attempts to dye his hair. Fortunately, Koujaku is there to help him with the outcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defining Characteristics

At one point, when he's twelve or so, Aoba decides to dye his hair. He'll fit in better (he thinks), at a time when he's still thinking about fitting in, about not being teased. There's plenty of people with bright hair like his, of course, but that's because _they_ dye _theirs,_ because they want to stand out. He doesn't, not then.

He buys the box dye and reads the instructions three times before he starts in on it. He ignores the part about a test patch; he feels like if he doesn't do it now, he'll never do it.

But Aoba regrets it shortly after he first runs a plastic-gloved hand hesitantly down his hair with the goop on it. At first, he doesn't notice it, reaches to dip his fingers to do a second pass.

Then the sense of chemical burning starts.

Later, he'll think it was stupid. Of course it would burn. The chemicals are strong enough that it itches to breathe them in. There are big warnings all over it, don't get in your eyes, don't dye your eyebrows, don't do anything that could risk it. But he knew it had to sit against the scalp, and assumed it wouldn't hurt his hair any more than it would hurt his scalp.

When the burning starts, he stumbles backward, slams into a wall with a yell. He tries to reach up to touch it; hesitates; he's still wearing the gloves, and doesn't know what to do with himself, shocked with the sudden stinging pain.

Koujaku, over for dinner and chatting with his grandmother, breaks in before Tae can, even, flinging the door open. Well, the bathroom is right next to the living room; it was only natural, he thinks, ashamed, that he'd be overheard.

"Aoba! What--"

He'd been going to contain himself if it was just the burning. But seeing Koujaku staring at him, trying to take in what was going on in front of him, Aoba sitting on the floor with plastic gloves on, a bowl of hair dye on the sink, he can't contain himself; bursts into tears in embarrassment. "S-sorry, I -- I--"

"Aoba!" That's Tae now, stopping behind Koujaku. "You... what are you doing, idiot grandson?"

He cries harder, because he did, in fact, do something idiotic. "I -- I just thought --"

"It's okay, it's okay," Koujaku says, soothingly. He kneels down and puts a hand around Aoba. "What -- does it hurt? The hair dye?"

"Nnh!"

"Wash it off," Tae orders. 

The two of them keep a hold of Aoba's shoulders as they direct him to the drain, Koujaku holding the shower nozzle over Aoba's head as he rinses the dye off that one streak. Aoba, eyes stinging more with tears than the smell of hair dye, stares down at his plastic gloves, at the grey dripping from them as the water catches the dye.

"Shh, you're fine," Koujaku says. "Don't cry."

"'Mnot crying!" It's an old protest neither of them believe.

Tae sighs. "You worry an old lady," she says, but the tone is fond. "Koujaku, you have him? I'll get a towel."

"Please do." Koujaku keeps talking in a soothing tone, hugging Aoba's shoulders. "You wanted to dye your hair, huh? While I was over? You wanted to show it off to me?"

"Nhuh..."

"Ehh, but I think Aoba's perfect the way he is," Koujaku says, and laughs softly. "There, I think it's all out. Does it still hurt?"

"Lil bit."

"Well, you made it sensitive, didn't you?" Koujaku says. There's no chiding in his tone, just sympathy, and that makes Aoba's heart ache the worse. "Give it a little bit to calm down before you decide."

"M'tired of people pulling it."

Koujaku sighs. "They're still doing that? Point them out to me and I'll take care of them."

Aoba hunches his shoulders. "Should do it myself."

"You're getting to that age, I guess," Koujaku says, and Aoba doesn't like that at all. It sounds like Koujaku's an adult and Aoba's just a child, when Koujaku puts it like that. "Well, then, let me take care of your hair."

"Huh?"

"Your poor hair doesn't deserve to be dyed just because people are mean to you," Koujaku says, and there's something careful about the way he says it. "Be proud of your hair, Aoba. It's beautiful and bright. It makes me think of the sky. But, more than that, you know what?"

"What?"

"It has feelings, so you shouldn't hurt it." Koujaku's hands run over his hair gently. "I don't know anything about hair care, but maybe we should find out, so you can take care of it properly. Show it off, instead of try to hide it. Nobody's going to try messing with you if you've got confidence in who you are."

"Mm."

The streak he'd tried to dye never quite turns black, but it is a darker blue for a while. After Koujaku leaves, and the years pass, Aoba mostly remembers it as the time he stupidly tried to dye it. The details of the conversation get pushed aside as just Koujaku comforting him, an embarrassment during those years where he's aggressively himself, aggressively confident.

"Why did you become a hairdresser, anyway?" Aoba asks, many years later. "Seems like a weird choice for someone like you."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?" Koujaku asks, but he looks at Aoba curiously, and that look is enough for Aoba to start to remember, the vague half-forgotten incident itching at the back of his mind. "It's what I wanted to do. That's all."

Aoba tries not to think about it too hard. That's too embarrassing even for Koujaku. "Guess it doesn't matter," he says, hurriedly.

"Guess it doesn't."

They sit in silence for a little while as Koujaku continues to condition his hair.

"I can't believe you," Aoba mutters.


End file.
